Out of the Dark
by Sophia Hawkins
Summary: AU, follows up "Pretty Girl". A new case brings Sergeant Hank Voight back to New York to team up with Olivia Benson, but neither is truly prepared for what's coming.
1. Chapter 1

Out of the Dark

Author's Note: This story continues in the alternate universe of "Pretty Girl". I've taken some liberties in rewriting the timeline of Olivia overseeing the squad and Lieutenant Murphy being brought in instead. The chapters will be relatively short but I hope everybody enjoys.

"You doing anything tonight?" Olivia asked as she checked her watch.

It was late, it was time for all of them to call it a night and head home, and she was more than ready for that. It had been a long day, a long week, a long case which included far more paperwork than any human being should be subjected to fill out at any one time. After six weeks of investigating, they'd _finally_ cracked open a pedophile ring that had all started with one child model photographer, and resulted in 20 men's arrests; and they'd wound up with enough evidence for the D.A. to put every last one of them away for up to 60 years. Of course the treadmill ran on, where one case ended, there were 20 more just beginning, and in between there were open cases with no current leads but a growing chain of more victims. That however, would have to wait until the morning when she was fresh and could think straight. Now that _this_ case was all over, she was ready to go home and either collapse into bed or climb the walls, she'd decide which when she got there.

"Same old same old," Fin answered as he picked up his jacket.

Olivia looked to him and asked, "What _is_ that anyway?"

"Beats me," he replied, "Seems anymore all I do is get in the door, crash on the couch and wake up the next day."

Olivia nodded, "I hear that." She finished putting away her paperwork for the night and thought to ask, "Hear from Munch lately?" Nothing had been 'the same' at SVU since Elliot left, but things _really_ hadn't been the same since Munch retired, then Cragen retired. Olivia looked over at Fin and realized that they were the only two left out of the whole bunch. Well, now she was depressed, even _more_ so than she already had been.

"I talked to him last week," Fin answered, "Said he was giving in and going down to Baltimore to visit his brother."

"Oh, right…the one with the funeral home," Olivia said, "Bernard."

"Yeah," Fin said, "Said he'll probably be back in town around the first of the month."

"Sounds like he's got a better social life than we do right now," Olivia commented.

"Got the time for one anyway," Fin said, "Course that still don't help his personality any."

Olivia laughed as she put on her jacket, "You miss him, don't you?"

Fin didn't say anything and Olivia figured it was because Rollins hadn't left for the night either and might still be within earshot.

"Me too," she said, "Maybe I'll give him a call when he gets back."

"He'd probably like that, but maybe you should anyway," Fin told her.

"Do you think there'll ever be another cop in this squad like Munch?" Olivia asked.

"Not if we're lucky," Fin replied, "One of that paranoid pain in the ass is bad enough."

"Well, see you tomorrow," Olivia said.

"Not if I see you first," Fin responded.

It was cold outside as soon as Olivia was out the door. Cold, and crowded, a squad car was parked out front and three unis were coming up to the entrance. They saw Olivia but didn't seem to be in any particular hurry to see her least of all, so she could only assume it was just routine work, nothing pressing.

"Sergeant Benson," one of the younger men said as he passed.

"Hi," she replied as she walked past them. Somebody running the night shift could help them with whatever they had or what they'd come to collect. After them, there was the foot traffic of several pedestrians passing by in the night either heading home to bed or out to drink and do God knew what else until the sun came up. Olivia managed to politely push her way past them one by one, getting elbowed a few times along the way. Once she got past all of those people, was just about to the street to hail a taxi when she heard a car horn honking from the parking lot.

"Hey pretty lady, you doing anything tonight?"

For a second, Olivia couldn't figure out who was talking or who was being addressed, but then it hit her, she _knew_ that voice. It had been several months since she'd heard it, but she _knew _it, that deep, raspy, gravelly voice. She turned around and saw one of the cars in the parking lot with its windows down, and leaning out the driver side window with a knowing smirk on his face was...

"Sergeant Voight," Olivia was caught off guard and certainly surprised. She went over to the car just as Hank stepped out. She was surprised, and confused, "What're you doing here?"

"I'm here working on a case and I need your help," Hank answered as he stood in the cold with his jacket unzipped, looking very much like he was freezing but also like he was too stubborn to do it up. Very nonchalantly he asked her, "Do you mind if we go to your office and discuss it?"

"Ah," Olivia said, "I don't have an office anymore actually."

Voight gave her a funny look, "What happened, the termites get to it?"

"Uh no, actually, the department sent somebody else in for me to take orders from, a Lieutenant Murphy…I'm bumped back to my old desk again actually."

"I see. Well in that case, forget that, let's go somewhere else and talk about it over coffee," Voight told her.

Now Olivia _was_ confused, "Can't you discuss this case with Murphy too?"

"Why should I? I don't know him, so I don't trust him, but I trust you," Hank opened the door to his car, "Come on, get in, it's too damn cold out here."

Olivia didn't get it, but she _did_ know she could trust Voight, after what happened with William Lewis, she felt positive she could trust this man with her life, even if she _didn't_ know what the hell he was doing. "Okay…"

Not feeling sure about any of this, Olivia got in the passenger side and clicked her seatbelt into place, she'd never had the privilege of driving with Voight and decided it wasn't worth taking the risk incase he turned out to be one of those 'it shakes once you clear 95' kind of guys. As Voight got in beside her, she asked him, "So what kind of case brings you back to Manhattan?"

Voight stuck his key in the ignition, turned the engine over and told her, "A missing person," then he pulled out of the parking lot and they took off into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Olivia hadn't gotten much of a chance to get to know Hank Voight the last time he came to New York, but she was quickly finding out that the man clearly didn't believe in doing anything the simple way. After they had a chance to warm up a bit in his car, he decided they should forego the coffee, and instead found an upscale bar and grill to stop at; inside it was a strangely immaculate looking place, they got a booth near the back and ordered a couple of barbecue sandwiches with sides of onion rings and fried pickles and some suiting beer for the meal.

"When'd you get in?" Olivia asked as they waited for their order.

"Tonight," Voight answered as he put a thin black case on the table and opened it up, "I came straight from the airport."

"But SVU isn't Missing Persons," Olivia said.

"I know that," he told her with a smug look on his face.

"I'm afraid I don't understand then," Olivia said.

"Know what I don't understand?" Voight reached over and moved back her bangs, "Why you don't get your hair cut, you've got a nice face, it's a shame to let it get concealed by all this."

Olivia drew back and giggled, "Come on, Voight, be serious."

"I am, if you wanted to see me in a joking mood you should've been on the plane with me. I don't like flying, so to pass the time I decided to have some fun at the other passengers' expense with a few remarks of losing pressure."

"You're not serious!" Olivia said.

All Voight said in response was, "If I have to keep getting sent over here on assignment, pretty soon I'm going to be banned from all airlines. Now I mean it, you'd look better with shorter hair, it would definitely take some years off of you."

"Oh, thanks," Olivia cynically remarked.

"You wear the job, kid, I hate to break it to you," Voight told her, "Look at me for a prime example, I've looked like this since I was 30."

"Voight…"

"Hank."

"Hank," Olivia repeated, "What's going on exactly? What's this all about?"

"There's a reason why I'm not taking this case to the proper authorities," Voight told her, "I need somebody I know I can trust helping me work it. This is not an official case, I'm doing this as a favor to a friend. Here, take a look at this."

Voight took a photograph out of the case and put it on the table for Olivia to see. In the photo was a teenage girl with a strong build and a head full of short tan and light red hair.

"This is Jackie Lynch, 19 years old, between you and me, I think she mentally checked out a few years before, but overall she's very put together. She's too old to be classified a runaway, but I don't believe she was kidnapped either," Voight explained, "She grew up in the city, I've known her for most of her life, I've known her grandfather longer than that. She's missing and I'm doing this as a favor to him."

"How long's she been missing?" Olivia asked as she studied the photo.

"About two weeks, nobody has any clue where she went," Hank answered, "All she left behind were a set of frantic parents, and a boyfriend, one Roger Murdock, nice kid, not too bright, she was the brains of that particular outfit."

"What was going on at the time she disappeared?" Olivia wanted to know.

Hank adjusted in his seat as their order was brought to them and placed on the table, "Not a whole lot, in the time leading _up_ to that time, it's a long story. But in short, I think she tried to kill her boyfriend's father."

"What?" Olivia asked.

Hank waved it off, "We'll get to that later, I don't believe it has any vital part of what's going on. She's a good girl, for the most part, she got lucky, she never got into drugs, or alcohol, or boys…well, not _sex_ anyway, hell, as far as I and her grandfather know, she's still a virgin."

"What's he got to do with anything?" Olivia asked.

"Well she was staying with him over the summer when her parents went on vacation, he caught Roger in her bedroom one morning. Now this guy caught his own daughter in bed with a boy about 25 years earlier, so he's past getting excited, but as it turned out, she was in the bed, and he was on the floor in a corner."

"That's unusual," Olivia said.

"She's an unusual girl," Voight told her, "There's always been some kind of a brick wall between her and the rest of the world, nobody's ever been able to get any full answers out of her."

"Not even you?" Olivia asked teasingly.

"Not even Granddad, and he's about the most important person in her life," Hank explained.

"Voight, _what_ happened?" Olivia asked.

"Well, mind you we never got any solid answers out of anybody," Hank told her, "But a few days before she disappeared, Grandpa goes out for the night, Roger comes over for the night, Jackie sends Roger away to run an errand for half an hour, and half an hour later somebody's calling 911 because somebody went over to Roger's house and about beat his father to death and left him bleeding on the living room floor and the door wide open. Now Grandpa still has all his marbles, he does the math, he does the psychology, and the equation he comes up with is that Jackie sent Roger away to give her enough time to go over and beat the crap out of the father. It's no secret that that boy's whole household is the living definition of dysfunctional, but nobody wants to get involved, nobody wants to file any charges."

"Right."

"Now I'm the first guy to step in and do something, but you know how futile it is trying to help somebody who doesn't want to be helped, won't accept help, and is not willing to take that first step."

"Right," Olivia replied, that was a sensation that every cop only knew too well, and too many times it resulted in the wrong people winding up dead.

"Story of the mother's life," Voight said, "I try to help but she doesn't want any part of it. And her boy is too scared to speak up either, even now that he's grown; he's been well trained in the art of 'don't make waves', no matter where you turn somebody's gonna be mad at you for something you do."

Olivia nodded in understanding.

"So anyway, from what we could piece together, she goes over, helps herself in, knocks Daddy Dearest in the head with the living room's card table, knocks him on the floor, then jumps on and off the couch and lands on his ribs, and to throw people off, she did it in a pair of the guy's own boots, which are six sizes larger than her own feet, leaving size 13 tracks all over the house, which mysteriously disappear past the sidewalk right outside the house and by the curb."

"What did Jackie have to say about it?" Olivia asked.

"Nothing, because at the same time the dad's body is being taken out on a stretcher, Grandpa comes home, finds Roger there and not Jackie, in fact she is _nowhere_ to be seen. _Next_ morning, Grandpa gets a call. A friend of his at the hospital reports that Jackie has been brought in, beaten to a pulp and only semi-conscious, which quickly escalates to full consciousness when the doctors try examining her, and she flies into a rage and tries to kill everyone in the room, _especially_ when they try to perform a rape kit on her."

"But you said…"

"She insisted nothing happened, nobody has anything to go on that can suggest otherwise," Voight answered, "So we have to take her at her word."

"And then she just disappears? Just like that?"

"There one night, gone by the next morning, and not a sign of her since."

"So what makes you think she's here?" Olivia asked.

"Well, after she disappeared, I sat Roger down and had a long talk with him," Voight shook his head, "He doesn't know anything, I leave no stone unturned, I scared the hell out of that boy and he still doesn't know anything, he's got too much sense to lie to me. But I keep tabs on him, and one day he gets a postcard from Jackie, no return address, no mention of where she is or what she's doing, just letting him know she's still alive and she'll see him again someday."

"If there was no return address, how do you know it came from New York?" Olivia asked.

Hank dug into the case again and took out the card in question and told her, "Because the postmark on the postcard is clearly marked Manhattan, so if she's not here, you tell me where she is and then we'll all know."

Olivia looked the card over and asked Hank, "Does she know anybody here?"

"Not a soul that anybody back home can think about," Voight shook his head, "Which makes this all the more puzzling. She has no family out here, and she never had a lot of friends, certainly none that moved out this way."

"Did Jackie run away because she was going to be charged for assaulting that man?" Olivia asked him.

Voight took a swig of his beer and said, "Nobody's pressing charges, whatever happened to Dear Old Dad that night, he's decided to claim amnesia, and he's still in the hospital which might lend some credibility to that. He'll be there for a _while_, but not _that_ long, and I can't see if she was going to hightail it out of Dodge, that she'd leave Roger behind knowing his dad was going to be coming back home."

"How seriously involved are they?" Olivia asked.

"I think boyfriend is a loose term," Voight said, "I think there's more intimacy between the two of _us_ than there is between the two of them."

Olivia choked on a startled laugh at his comment. She sobered up and said, "She's his protector."

"Seems to be," Voight said, "That's why this doesn't make any sense."

"How old is he?"

"Same age she is. He's not retarded you understand, but the family he comes from, it just kind of makes sense he's not…all there, you know? Him being not quite all there is quite different from her mind checking out a few years in the past, she's got it together more than he has, maybe too much if she was able to orchestrate this whole thing."

"How long has she known him?"

"A few months, not very long, long enough to know she doesn't like his father."

"Will she be charged if she comes home?"

"I doubt it," Voight said, "All the same I _would_ like to get a definitive answer out of her on what happened."

"So…" Olivia said, "Where do you think she's hiding out here?"

"Well the detective in me's saying she doesn't know anybody, it's late, it's cold, she can't have much money with her, so I'd suggest the first place we start looking is all the cheap motels in the area. She's not dumb enough to try roughing it for the night in a place like this."

"I still think I should bring the others in on this," Olivia said, "We could cover more ground and…"

Hank shook his head and cut her off, "No, no outsiders. This kid grew up around cops, she knows how to make them, if she smells one within 10 feet, she'll bolt and we'll never catch her. Now she used to trust _me_, I'm hoping she still does."

"But she doesn't know me," Olivia said, "She won't trust _me_."

"Yeah, but _I_ do," Voight told her, as if that was all that mattered.

Olivia took a small drink of her beer and asked him, "What'd you have in mind?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Have you seen this woman?" Olivia showed Jackie's photograph to the clerk at the small motel they'd stopped at, "Her name's Jackie Lynch, she might've signed in under an alias."

The 30-something man working the front desk looked at the picture for a few seconds and shook his head, "Don't look familiar."

Hank reached over the desk and slammed his hand on the sign-in book and said, "You don't mind if I take a look at the registry, do you?" Without waiting for an answer he added a straight faced, "Thank you," and slowly slid the book over to their side of the desk.

"If she signed in under a fake name," Olivia started to say.

"It's alright, I know her handwriting," Hank told her as he flipped through the pages. He scrolled through a few names but ultimately shook his head, "Not here."

"If you see this woman," Olivia showed the picture again and handed over one of her cards, "Give me a call, it's very urgent."

"He won't call," Voight said as they stepped back outside and headed towards his car.

"That's the fifth one we've checked so far," Olivia said, "It's almost midnight already."

Five motels so far, and every single one they stopped in had more or less the same response. For sure, none of the people working there had ever seen Jackie, Voight had gone over the registries for them too, and always came up empty handed. A couple times the people working the desk had been happy to cooperate and actually take a good long look at the picture from the start, the rest had had to be 'coaxed' into taking the time to pay attention, courtesy of Voight. But all the same, every single trip had proven to be a dead end.

"Won't be the first long night I've had," Hank said as they got in the car, "You?"

Olivia said nothing at first, then as she put on her seatbelt she said, "Stayed up 72 hours straight on so many missing kid cases when every minute counted, this job's nearly killed all of us." A thought occurred to her and asked, "What if she signed in using her weak hand?"

"Wouldn't work," Voight told her as they drove out of there, "I've seen how she writes that way too, the registers don't match _either_ hand."

"Why would she come 700 miles to New York if she'd never been here before?" Olivia asked, "For that matter, _how_ did she get out here?"

"Probably the same way those abandoned cats manage to travel 2500 miles in 5 days to track their owners," Voight said as he stared down the road ahead.

Olivia turned to him and asked, "How do they do that?"

He looked at her and admitted, "I don't know…but _however_ they do it, maybe that's what she did too."

"What about her parents?" Olivia asked.

"They're out of their minds with worry."

"I mean, what's her relationship like with them?" she asked.

"Well," Voight said, "She was the only child, and always the odd one out, they had it built up in their minds what she'd become." There was a small _click_ sound as his tongue poked against the inside of his cheek. "She had other plans."

"Are you close with them too?" she asked.

Hank shook his head, "I know them but we've never been particularly close, enough to make small talk but not much past that."

"Was anything of hers missing?" Olivia asked.

"She'd be traveling light," Voight explained as he watched the traffic ahead of them, "She didn't have a whole lot of stuff, most of her clothes are still there, only one pair of shoes is gone, all I can say for certain is what savings she had were completely wiped out. She kept her cash in a tin bank in her room, bank was on the floor in two pieces, empty. Had two jackets, one heavy denim with a leather collar, one knockoff leather and black, both of them were still in the closet, one thing that doesn't make sense because she had to know how cold it'd be out here at this time of the year."

"You're really worried about her," Olivia said.

Voight would not confirm or deny, but she could tell from looking at him.

"If something was going on," he finally said to her, "She should've told me."

Olivia simply nodded and looked at the neon signs up ahead, "Turn off here, we'll see if anywhere here's seen her."

"Do you have any kids, Benson?" Voight asked.

His question caught her off guard, "Uh, no, no kids, no kids and no husband."

"Not even a goldfish?" he looked towards her.

"Not even a plant," she answered, "I'm not home long enough to keep _anything_ alive."

"Well that's comforting," Hank sarcastically remarked.

"You?" she asked.

"One son, Jason…personally I think our relationship leaves much to be desired."

"Occupational hazard," Olivia said, "The best cops I know have very strained relationships with their families. Elliot had more than his fair share of trouble from his kids _and_ with his wife, Fin's _never_ had a great relationship with his son Ken."

"And you decided to save yourself the trouble and bypass all that entirely," Voight said, "Smart thinking."

"That wasn't exactly the plan," she told him, "It just happened that way. It's hard finding somebody to get close to when you work in sex crimes all day."

"Yeah, I could see that," Voight responded.

"Most cops only last two years in Special Victims," Olivia told him, "And I can certainly understand why, but I just can't see myself transferring out and doing anything else."

"You know," Hank said as he pulled up in front of another cheap, tacky looking place, looking to change the subject, "It seems to me that the people who work these joints aren't too willing to cooperate with cops."

"Uh, yeah," Olivia replied.

Voight put the car in park and turned to her and said, "So suppose they don't know we're cops? They might be more willing to tell us what we want to know."

Olivia looked at him curiously, "What'd you have in mind?"

"Well let's face it, there's one main reason places like this get customers for the night," Voight told her, "So the way I see it, we can do this one of two ways, one, we come in playing the frantic parents looking for her, or two, we come in to get a room and tell the guy we're supposed to be meeting her here."

Olivia did a double take, "What, you mean swingers?"

"You think that's _not_ going on around here?" he asked.

"Oh," Olivia looked up ahead and replied, "I doubt there's much that _isn't_ going on around here. But do you think it'll actually work?"

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Voight told her.

* * *

><p>"Try not to wriggle around too much," Voight said as he adjusted his hold on Olivia's lower back and under her thighs as he hoisted her up in his arms.<p>

"Voight," Olivia said as she wrapped her arms around his neck, "So help me, if you drop me I swear I'll…"

"I've never dropped one yet, I don't intend to start now," he told her as he adjusted his hold again, "Now just remember, if this is going to work, we have to be convincing, so just remember, you're drunk off your ass and horny as a goat."

Olivia laughed loud and hard at his comment. Perfect. Just barely getting in the door to the front office, with Olivia laughing like a mule, he carried her over towards the front desk and put her down. Olivia's hair was mussed up and she spoke in slow slurs and tried to paw Voight as he spoke to the manager.

"We'd like a room," he said.

"I can see that," the man replied, "How long will you be staying for?"

"Do you have hourly rates?" Olivia asked as she lunged forward and put both her hands on the desk to keep from falling. Then she thought of something and turned to Voight and said, "Honey, wasn't she supposed to meet us here?"

"Oh right," Voight said, "Has a young woman been here to get a room? She's about..." he tried to show with his hands about how tall she was, "She's got short brown hair and…"

"Hang on," Olivia said as she opened her purse and sorted through it, "I think I have her picture in here." She took out the photograph of Jackie and said, "We agreed to all meet up here tonight, she said she'd be waiting for us."

"If she _is_ here," Voight told the manager, "We could extend our stay a couple days and make it well worth your time and our money."

The man studied the picture and said, "Yeah, she's been staying here for a couple days now."

"Oh really?" Olivia asked, "What room's she in?"

"I can get you room #4, put you right next door to her in #5," the man said as he handed them a key.

"Thank you," Voight said as he passed a few bills towards the man. He wrapped one strong arm around Olivia's waist and pulled her back against him and said, "Come on, honey, let's not keep her waiting."

"Oh, I'm right behind you," Olivia said as she wrapped her arms around him. It made for an awkward walk out the door, but they were definitely convincing.

"That was fun," Voight said once they were out in the darkness and able to pull away from each other and act like normal people again.

"You don't get out much, do you, Voight?" Olivia asked.

His only response was a trademark 'cat that swallowed the canary' smile on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

They stopped at their own assigned room first, Voight unlocked the door, they went in, looked around, listened for any commotion from the neighboring room, then headed back out and went over to room #5.

"Think she's in?" Olivia asked.

The door was locked, of course. Not that Voight was going to let that slow him down. He took a set of lock picks out of his pocket and went to work on the deadbolt.

"I imagine working for you's never boring," Olivia commented.

"You might be right on that," he replied as he got the knob to turn, "Pay dirt."

Olivia took out her gun just incase, as did Hank, he threw the door open and they jumped in with their guns drawn. But there was nobody there.

"Check the bathroom," Hank said as he pocketed his gun, and went over to the bed and went to work in tearing it apart, pulling the mattress off the box springs.

Olivia turned on the light in the bathroom and gave it the once over, "Nobody here."

"Any_thing_ that can tell us something?" Voight asked as he got done searching through the bed and started putting it back the way it was.

"What're you doing?" Olivia called from the doorway.

"Just checking," he answered, "You have any idea how many dead bodies turn up in the middle of a motel bed or under it?"

"I try not to think about it too much," she replied as she ducked back into the bathroom.

"You have that luxury?" Hank asked.

"Voight," Olivia came back into the bedroom, "Voight."

"What?"

"Bag," Olivia pointed towards a tote bag on the floor. She knelt down and unzipped it and pulled out a couple changes of clothes and took a whiff of them. She drew back choking and said, "None of these have been washed since she got out here, I'd stake my pension on it."

"That's not so unusual, not for her anyway," Hank told her, "That was one of her parents' pet peeves, she couldn't see any point in getting her clothes washed all the time so she'd wear the same thing for about a week."

"Well it's disgusting," Olivia said as she dropped the clothes back in the bag and re-zipped it.

"You know it and I know it," Hank said, "But they could never get her to accept it. I told you she's a weird one. Course that doesn't make her wrong. You hear that guy wore the same jeans for months and found they weren't anymore germ-ridden than ones worn for two weeks?"

Olivia moved on and over to the wastebasket, which had about two dozen cracker packets in it. "Looks like she's living on these things," she said. Beside the dresser rested half a gallon of purified water and a box of crackers. "Trying to eat cheap it looks like."

"No wonder with how much everything costs out here," Voight said.

"Couple packs of gum on the dresser," Olivia said, "She smoke?"

"I caught her trying to boost a pack of cigarettes from my jacket when she was 10, far as I know she never touched another one after I got done with her," Voight explained, "She chews gum all the time because when she doesn't eat she gets some kind of choking heartburn, been like that for years, nobody ever knew why."

Olivia got to her feet and looked over the contents on the dresser asked him, "Does Jackie have some kind of medical condition?"

"Not when I knew her."

"Well it looks like she's got _something_ she's treating herself for," Olivia pointed out a wide variety of health and hygiene products on top of the dresser, "Q-tips, cotton balls, peroxide, rubbing alcohol, witch hazel, Campho-Phenique, anti-biotic cream, medicated body powder, baby powder, baby…oil…" she stopped and looked at the items on the dresser and said, "Voight," she pointed to the middle of the dresser where a jar of petroleum jelly, a bottle of baby oil, and a container of baby powder were lined up together, "These are things you use on babies."

"Yeah well uh…" Voight made a small sound of embarrassment as he picked up a half empty package of women's pads that had been stuffed under the bed, "She wasn't pregnant, we know that much."

Olivia inhaled and exhaled slowly and sharply, like it had suddenly gotten hard to breathe. She turned around to face him and said to him, "Hank, I don't want to worry you…"

"Then as a cop you should know better than to open a sentence with those words," he told her, "_What_ is it?"

"Uh…you really came out here at a bad time. We've got an open case, the past few weeks half a dozen women have been attacked by the same guy…" Olivia sat down on the edge of the bed before she fell to the floor, going into the details on this was making her feel sick, "He uh…the papers gave him what they thought was a very fitting name given the nature of his crimes."

"Go on," Hank told her, remaining standing and intending to stay that way, regardless of what she told him.

"The papers dubbed him the Baby Rapist, he's got some kind of sick fetish…" she pointed to the jars and tubes on the dresser and explained, "The women he attacks, he follows them home, slips in, restrains them so they can't escape or fight back, he gets off on their fear, he hits them, berates them, reduces them to complete hysteria until all they can do is cry, continuously, _like_ a baby, he uses the petroleum jelly to forcibly lubricate them, the baby oil to smear over their bodies and give them a further sense of being desecrated and when he's finished he coats their lower bodies with the baby powder and gropes them through it."

"And I thought Chicago had all the weirdoes," Voight suddenly felt a sinking sensation to sit down alongside her, "Tell me you've got something to go on."

Olivia shook her head, "We've investigated half a dozen suspects, nothing's turned up."

"Uh huh, so tell me, is that…" Hank pointed towards the objects on the dresser.

"We figure he has to be bringing his own because at every crime scene, the women _did_ have these things on their vanities or in the medicine cabinet, but none of them ever turned up with any foreign prints."

"So the big question is how does this guy operate? How does he _think_ in terms of what he does? What triggers him?"

Olivia shook her head, "I don't know…but one of the women _was_ attacked in her motel room, that's where she'd been living for 3 weeks."

When Voight heard this, the expression on his face changed to one that even scared the hell out of Olivia, for she knew exactly what he was thinking.

* * *

><p>The minutes passed by slowly, each one might as well have been an hour. They'd turned out the lights so when Jackie came back she wouldn't know anyone was there. Olivia sat in a chair by the door, even in the dark she could see Voight seated on the bed, rocking his weight back and forth continuously without disturbing the springs one bit. If the situation weren't so serious, she would've thought he looked amusing right now.<p>

"Where do you think she is?" Olivia asked in a low whisper.

Voight shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

"Well wherever she is," Olivia read her watch by the streetlight coming in the window, "I wonder how long she can stay gone?"

Even in the dark she could see that Voight was staring straight at the door, not looking _at_ the door, trying to see _past_ the door, almost boring holes through it to see out into the world outside, as if trying to spot where Jackie was at this very moment.

Through the windows they saw a pair of car headlights flash and they heard a car pull up outside. Olivia turned to see Voight and he had already sprung to his feet and went to the window. He pulled back the curtain and looked out.

"See her?" Olivia asked as she got out of the chair.

"Well, I see somebody getting out of a car," Voight said.

"Think it's Jackie?" Olivia asked as she got up beside him.

"Can't tell," he said as he let go of the curtain, "If it is, that doesn't mean she's necessarily going to come back here right away."

Olivia grabbed him by the arm and said, "What if the manager stops her? And mentions us?"

"Come on," Voight nodded towards the door.

He turned the knob quietly and opened the door and they saw that a couple people were out by the street but weren't looking their way, so they quietly slipped out of the room and let the door relock behind them, and they stepped over towards their own room and waited to see what happened.

"You head over and see what happens," Voight told Olivia, "If it _is_ her she'll try and run, and I'll get her on the retreat."

"How do you know which way she'll go?" Olivia asked.

"Don't worry about that, just do it," he said, "Trust me."

"I hope you're right," she said as she headed out towards the road.

Trying to remain inconspicuous, Olivia headed out towards the couple, and they passed her by entirely and headed up to the motel, and over to room #1. False alarm. Olivia turned to head back when she spotted someone else walking up the road; between the dark and the neon lights it was hard to tell, but the closer she got, Olivia realized it had to be Jackie. She turned and signaled to Voight and saw him disappear somewhere in the darkness. She supposed this was her cue. She nonchalantly walked over to the young woman approaching the motel, and up close and personal she could see it _was_ the girl from the photograph. Jackie Lynch, all of 19 years old, dressed in a pair of men's jeans and a purple muscle shirt and a beat up pair of white sneakers. _Not_ what any sane person would be wearing out in this cold weather in the middle of the night.

"Excuse me," Olivia started to say.

Jackie bolted and ran from her.

"Jackie!"

Olivia ran after her, but neither of them got very far because once Jackie cleared that block, Voight came out of the shadows and grabbed her and restrained her. She struggled until it occurred to her _who_ it was, and then she calmed down enough he could let go of her.

"Hank Voight?" she said, "You scared the hell out of me."

"Believe me, that's completely mutual," Voight told her in a less than amused tone, "Jackie, you've got a lot of explaining to do."

Jackie heard Olivia coming and she tried to get away. Voight grabbed her by the wrist and told her, "It's alright, it's a friend of mine." He forced her to turn around and look at Olivia and he told her, "This is Olivia Benson, she's a cop too."

The young woman looked at Olivia suspiciously and asked, "Can I see a badge?"

"Uh, sure," Olivia took it out for Jackie to see.

"Special Victims, that's sex crimes," Jackie said, "What're you doing here?"

"That's exactly what I want to ask _you_," Voight told her, "What the hell are you doing out here?"

She tried to play it coy and replied, "I'm 19, I don't need anybody's permission to leave home and go where I want."

"Maybe not, but you've got a lot of people back home worried sick about what the hell happened to you, _me_ included," Hank told her, "And I'm going to get some answers out of you if it's the last thing I do. Now _come on_," he jerked her by the arm and told her, "We've got a nice little room _right_ next to yours."

"Voight," Olivia could appreciate what Hank had been put through by this girl's sudden disappearance, but all the same, she couldn't help a sudden concern for what he was going to do to her.

He clearly didn't share her concerns and he told her, "Trust me, Olivia, I _know_ what I'm doing."

That's what she was suddenly afraid of.


	5. Chapter 5

"Get in there," Voight opened the door and gave Jackie a slight _shove_ in and he and Olivia stepped into the room behind her and closed the door.

"So Hank," Jackie said, standing straight and attempting to appear unfazed by this recent turn of events, "What brings you out here?"

"You first," he said firmly and simply.

The girl just shook her head dismissively and turned around.

"You know, Voight," she said, turning to look at him again, saying in almost an accusing tone, "You always were _the_ one guy in the whole world I could depend on."

He looked mildly confused, "What, something happen to change that?"

"That remains to be seen," Jackie replied.

Voight took a couple steps towards her and quickly closed the gap between them, "First you're going to tell me about what went on three weeks ago with Roger's dad."

But she was stubborn and she wouldn't.

"You know I've always told the men under my command at the house, tell _me_ the truth so _I_ can lie for you," Voight told her, "And now I'm telling you the same thing."

She shook her head, "I can't do that, Hank."

"Then lie to me, but at least make it _good_, tell me something I can believe," Voight told her, "Tell me he tried to attack you, tell me he tried to rape you, tell me _something_ that I can justify what you did to him."

"What he did to Roger and his own wife wasn't bad enough?" Jackie asked.

"Not if you weren't there to witness it yourself, and you _weren't_," Hank pointed out.

She replied in a smart aleck way, "Did people have to see Rome was burning to know it smoldered?"

"Jackie," Olivia spoke up and stepped in, "You're not in any trouble for what happened, we just need to know what happened."

"What do you know?" Jackie asked her snidely.

But Olivia persisted and asked her, "Who attacked you that night? Who beat you up?"

That caught the girl off guard, but only momentarily.

"You wouldn't let them do a rape kit," Olivia said.

"Because I wasn't raped," Jackie replied.

"So what _did_ happen?" Voight asked.

She looked to him accusingly and said, "You know what happened, you were there."

"After you'd been missing for the whole night, unconscious in some back alley, try again," he said.

"Let it go, Voight, _I_ did," she said.

Olivia grabbed her by the arm to get her attention, not as hard as Voight had earlier, "So why'd you run away?" She looked the girl in the eyes and told her, "Jackie, if you're in trouble, you have to tell us so we can help you."

"Yeah you'll help me," she replied sarcastically as she pulled her arm away, "Nobody can help me."

"Jackie, I've got only so much patience," Voight told her, "And I just spent two and a half hours on a plane coming out here and I _don't_ like flying, so I'd advise you to drop the attitude and cooperate or I can make this _very_ miserable for you, I can promise that."

"It wouldn't have done any good to tell you, Voight," Jackie said, "You wouldn't believe me."

"Oh no?" he stared her down and asked her, "Did you tell me _before_ and I didn't believe it?"

"No," she shook her head.

"Then why do you think I won't believe you _now_?" he wanted to know.

"Because _nobody_ would believe me," Jackie told him, a hint of desperation now clear in her voice.

"Jackie," Olivia said, intervening, "Would you excuse us for a minute?" She grabbed Voight by his jacket and murmured to him, "Can I speak with you?" but instead of waiting for an answer, she tried pulling him along to go with her.

Voight managed a small chuckle and said, "I might like that."

"I'm going back to my own room," Jackie told them.

"The hell you are," Hank turned towards her.

"The hell I'm not," she replied, "It's been colder than a witch's tit out here and I've been out all night and I'm half frozen stiff. I'm going back to my room and I'm taking a bath to warm up and you _stay out_, you hear me?"

"I hear you, but I'm not required to obey," Voight answered.

"You know what," Olivia stopped and said for both of them to pay attention, "That's a good idea, let's take a break and everybody can cool off, and then we'll talk about this later."

"I have nothing to talk about," Jackie said simply.

* * *

><p>"Do you mind explaining what the hell that was about?" Voight asked Olivia when the two of them were alone in their room, after Jackie had gone back to hers.<p>

"She was getting ready to shut down, if we let her cool off, she might be more willing to cooperate," Olivia said.

"I know this kid," Voight said, making it clear he was very self assured of his ability to get to the bottom of the mess.

"Yeah well, I have a bad feeling about where this is going to go," Olivia told him, "You describe Jackie as having built this wall around her that no one can get through, and now _this_. Voight, if she thinks you won't believe what she has to say, what do you think it is?"

"I can guess," he said, the expression on his face saying all that truly needed to be said, that he was not looking forward to finding out if his guess was right.

"So can I," Olivia told him, "It sounds all too familiar of cases of sexual abuse as a child, and when they think you won't believe them, who's usually the guilty party?"

Voight blinked and slowly nodded, "Either a family member or a friend of the family's."

"Right, and who did you say she doesn't have the best relationship with out of all you guys back in Chicago? She's close to you, she's close to her grandfather, who does that leave?"

"You think her father?" Voight looked surprised by this theory.

"It's possible," Olivia said, "It happens all the time and nobody catches on because it's all under the radar, parents can do things that if other people even attempted to do with children, they've be tarred and feathered, but for family it's always acceptable. And if that _is_ the case here…"

"If it is, _I'll_ deal with it."

"Whatever she says," Olivia told him, "You can't let her think you don't believe her, or she'll just shut down entirely."

"Cut me a little slack, Sergeant, I'm not exactly new at this," Voight told her.

"And I'm _too_ experienced in it," she replied.

"Then together we should do fine," Voight said.

"Just prepare yourself," Olivia said as she sat down on the foot of the bed in their room, "Victims transfer their anger all the time to people who try to help them; there's denial, outright anger, frustration…"

"I've seen this kid work, I know what she goes for when she feels threatened," Voight told her, "And what she _does_ go for, you don't _have_ any, so you'll be fine."

He consulted his watch and told her, "It's been long enough, she should be out of the tub by now. Let's go."

They stepped outside, went next door, Voight opened the door to Jackie's room and they stepped back in and didn't see her anywhere.

Olivia said to him, "She couldn't have slipped out."

Voight went over to the bathroom and beat on the door. No answer. He turned the knob and flung the door open, and both sergeants were horrified by the sight before them of Jackie slumped over the edge of the bathtub, unmoving and seemingly unconscious, one arm outstretched and the tips of her fingers just touching the floor.

In a heartbeat, Voight was across the bathroom and lifting Jackie's upper body up from over the tub's edge. He lifted her head up to see her face and saw that she was still conscious, but not by much. The air in the room was thick, the water in the tub near scalding, yet it was doubted that _this_ was the cause of her collapse. Olivia noticed but wasn't sure if Voight had had time to, that large parts of Jackie's back were covered in purple bruises, covering one shoulder blade, up around one shoulder.

"Jackie, can you hear me?" Olivia asked as she got alongside Voight to help her.

She got out a small groaned response, completely unintelligible. Olivia jerked the large towels off the rack and helped Voight wrap them around the young woman as he lifted her out of the tub and carried her out to the bedroom.

"It's alright, kid, I got you," he said as he walked over to the bed and eased her down.

"Jackie," Olivia placed her hand on the young woman's forehead and got her to open her eyes and look up at them, "What happened?"

Jackie covered her mouth like she was going to throw up, but instead she let out a series of pained choking coughs and about doubled over into a ball.

"Nobody _ever_ believed me," she told Voight, "Nobody ever believed _anything_ I had to say."

"I believed you," he said.

"You wouldn't if I told you," she said, swinging her feet over the edge and standing up, suddenly becoming very defensive.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" she hollered at both of them, and started picking out a change of clothes, "I'm getting dressed and I'm _not_ going to do it with the two of you standing around like a couple of vultures."

"We'll be right outside," Olivia said, ever so calmly, long trained in this side of the job.

Voight walked out with her but when he pulled the door shut behind him, he left it open a crack so they could hear in the room.

"What do you think?" Voight asked.

"I don't know," Olivia shook her head, "If there was some way we could get her to agree to go to the hospital and get checked out…"

"With a tranquilizer dart maybe," Hank told her.

"Voight," Olivia grabbed him by the shoulder to get his attention as she told him about the bruises on Jackie's back.

"Shh," Voight raised his hand for her to be quiet. He pushed the door open ever so slightly and they heard Jackie moaning and talking to herself incoherently as she slowly broke down crying.

They looked in the door and saw that Jackie had gotten dressed _just_ before sinking to the floor in the middle of the room, and was rocking back and forth slowly as she just seemed to go all to pieces. Voight pushed the door open and went over to the girl and grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to her feet. He had just opened his mouth to say something to her when she fell against him sobbing, taking him by momentary surprise.

"Nobody ever knew, nobody had one damn clue…nobody ever knew _anything_," she told him.

This sudden outburst left Voight feeling numb and hollow and shocked, though a moment later that feeling of shock was enhanced when, as Jackie was pressed tight against him, he felt and heard a deafening gurgling tremor vibrate against his abdomen. It took a few seconds for him to realize it was Jackie's stomach, he was sure his eyes were nice and wide with initial shock at the sensation.

"Jackie," Olivia came over to the young woman and put a hand on her arm to get her attention, "When was the last time you ate?"

The obscenely loud gurgling continued and Jackie pulled away from Voight and covered her mouth as she went into another about of body-wracking choking coughs.

"Definitely a while," Voight said, he turned to Olivia and said, "Let's get her out of here." He guided Jackie towards the door and told Olivia, "Get her stuff together, and let's get out of this cesspool."

"Right," Olivia said. She went to quick work collecting Jackie's clothes, everything off the dresser, anything that looked like it wasn't already here when she checked in, and dashed out to Voight's car, where he'd already gotten Jackie settled in the back, wrapped up in a blanket he'd taken out of the trunk, and laid out to rest. It looked to Olivia like Jackie had already fallen into a dead sleep.

"Is she going to be alright?" she asked as she turned in her seat.

"That's _your_ specialty," Voight said to her, "You tell me."

Olivia looked back at the girl who now seemed oblivious to everything, their own presence especially.


	6. Chapter 6

"Voight," Olivia said once they'd been driving around for about 10 minutes.

"What?"

Olivia gestured to the backseat, Hank turned his head for a second and saw Jackie _was_ in fact out cold.

"I think she's too tired to be hungry now," Olivia said.

"No wonder," Hank replied, quickly glancing at his watch and seeing what time it was, "Anybody in his right mind _would_ be at this hour." He looked to Olivia and said, "We're not going to get any straight answers out of her until the morning, I'll find us a place to stay the night."

"I _really_ need to let Murphy know what's going on," Olivia told him, "If I'm going to be with you on this case tomorrow."

"No you don't," Voight told her.

"Voight," Olivia said firmly.

He looked towards her and said, "All you gotta do is call the squad tomorrow and tell them you're taking a sick day, that's _all_ they need to know."

Olivia looked to Voight through the corners of her eyes and she said in a half dry tone, "It must be _so_ interesting working for you."

Voight half smiled and matched it with a half chuckle and said, "That an offer, Sergeant Benson?"

"Hardly," she replied.

"How about an invitation sometime?" Voight asked.

"Voight," Olivia said, "I'm not leaving New York for Chicago."

"Who said the invitation was for Chicago?" Voight asked, and when she turned to him he looked at her smugly.

Olivia tried to maintain a straight face and she asked him, "Do you always hit on the women cops you work with?"

"You wouldn't _want_ to hit on the ones _I_ work with," he replied, "And if you ever met my desk sergeant, you'd definitely know why."

Olivia just rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You are unbelievable."

"Thank you," he replied, unfazed, "I certainly try."

"So _what_ are we going to do _this_ time to get a room?" Olivia asked.

"You live around here, tell me what a _good_ place is, a hotel this time, someplace we can get one room with two beds," Voight said, "This time we're gonna go in as one big _happy_ family."

"I always knew there's a reason cops have to be such great actors," Olivia remarked.

"Ha-ha," Voight dryly responded.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, Voight wasn't pleased with any place Olivia could recommend from experience. So instead he found a very expensive hotel for them to stop in at. With a little work, Voight managed to convince the guy at the front desk that he, his wife, and their daughter, were forced to stop off for the night before he fell asleep at the wheel and drove them into an electrified fence or something good like that. To guarantee nobody would ever peg him for a cop, he laid out some large money for a good room, far more than what any cop should be able to afford, least of all any honest cop. As luck would have it, he was able to get them a suite with two beds up on the third floor. Olivia stood a few feet back alongside Jackie, who tried keeping her eyes open long enough for them to get upstairs, but it was obvious she was dead on her feet just barely managing to tread along as long as was necessary. The bright lights of the hotel's interior just made her squeeze her eyes shut all the tighter.<p>

Once they gotten to their room and the staff had left them alone, they'd just gotten in the door and Jackie fell down on the first bed and was dead to the world as soon as the mattress stopped vibrating with the sudden weight. It was also now that they were here they saw the suite came furnished with one double bed, one single, also one small couch, and over to one side a large table and four very fancily upholstered chairs. _No_ cop had any business being in a place this fancy. Olivia knew it wasn't any of her business, but she couldn't help wondering how Voight could afford it, even if it was just for the night.

"Don't move her," Voight said as Olivia moved to get Jackie under the covers, "Just leave her be."

Olivia opened up Jackie's bag and took out the rest of her clothes and told Voight, "While we're here for the night, I'm sending this down to the laundry room, it'll probably be the first time they've been clean since she left Chicago."

"_That_," Voight told her, "Is a very safe bet."

"Ugh," Olivia groaned as she took them to the laundry chute.

When she was finished with that, she turned and looked at Hank and asked solemnly, "So now what?"

"It's after two in the morning," Voight said, "If we don't get some sleep, we're going to be in as bad of shape as she is."

Olivia just stared at him as if to reiterate her question.

"Alright, alright, I can take a hint," Voight said as he headed over to crash on the couch.

"Voight," Olivia called after him.

"What?" Hank turned around and just missed getting hit with one of the large pillows Olivia grabbed off the bed and tossed at him.

"_Very_ funny," he flatly remarked, "If you don't mind, I'll call the front desk for the extra bedding."

Olivia just laughed at his expense.

* * *

><p>Voight had no idea how long he'd been laying on the suite's couch <em>trying<em> to sleep, he didn't know what time he'd actually gone to sleep, but as something drew him _out_ of that sleep, he just _knew_ somehow that it had been too damn short. That however was irrelevant right now because he realized the sound that had woken him up was somebody's strangled sounds of a struggle. He shot up from the couch, reached for his gun, turned on the light and saw Olivia was just now starting to come to in the full sized bed, and over on the single bed Jackie was trashing around in her sleep like a fish out of water trying to get off a hook. Taking in an inhale of relief that that was the extent of the trouble, Voight pocketed his gun and went over to the bed and woke Jackie up with one prompt shove that knocked her out of the bed and onto the floor.

"What the hell happened?" Jackie asked as she got to her feet.

"My guess," Voight told her, "You dream _very_ vividly."

Olivia was now up and awake as well, late to the party but also relieved that there wasn't any trouble.

"What happened, Jackie?" she asked, "Was it a nightmare?"

"I…" the young woman tried to think, "I don't know…I thought…" she turned to Voight, "I would've sworn there was somebody standing over me trying to choke me."

Voight was beyond tired, beyond frustrated, beyond everything but the last threads of his sanity. He restrained himself and decided to take charge of the situation.

"Alright, get up," he told Jackie, he grabbed her by the wrist and gave her a small shove over towards the other bed and told her, "Here, _you_ get in bed with Olivia."

"What good's that gonna do?" Jackie asked.

Olivia was inclined to agree with her question.

"Very simple," Voight told her, "If anyone _would_ try to choke you, they'd have to get through her first." He smiled at Olivia and added, "And she's mean enough she'd kill them if they tried."

Whether Jackie was paying attention and got it or not, they didn't know, but she climbed on top of the bed beside Olivia and then burrowed under the covers next to her. Hank headed back towards the couch and turned out the lights. In a few minutes he could hear the slow breathing of the women that told him they were both sound asleep again. Now, given that he had already put out a lot of money for this room, and the furniture wasn't nailed down in it, working in the dark, he turned the couch around so that the back concealed the view from the door. Maybe it was just the cop in him, maybe he was starting to get paranoid, he didn't think so though, but for whatever reason, he decided it would be in all their best interests if incase somebody managed to sneak into this room during the night, he and his gun were the _last_ things that intruder saw. He sat up on his knees so he could see over the top of the couch, of course the room was pitch dark but he knew right where the door was. Of course the door was locked, but when did that ever stop anyone with true determination?

He didn't know what this kid had gotten herself into, what he _did_ know was that he'd made this trip preparing for the worst, _hoping_ for the best. Cops weren't supposed to hope, because it was too often a fruitless feat, but he _had_ hoped, because he knew this girl and knew she was tough, knew if anybody could survive on the mean streets of New York, it would be her. And now that he _knew_ she was alive, and for the most part alright, least of all as fast as he could tell, some of the weight of dread had lifted itself off of his shoulders…and despite everything, he eventually found himself falling back asleep himself, and for the first time in two weeks since this whole caper started, fell into a _deep_, undisturbed sleep.

* * *

><p>Voight woke up because his right arm was asleep and a total dead weight clear up to his elbow. His fingers felt heavy and large and like they were incased in silly putty, and the nerves from his fingers clear up his arm all burnt and stung as he waved some circulation back into them. Sunlight was pouring in through the curtains covering the massive windows, but, after a few minutes of slowly coming around and remembering what his surroundings were, it occurred to Hank that this was <em>not<em> the early morning sunshine. He threw her left arm high up in the air so he could look at his watch right in front of his face, and he almost had a heart attack.

2:06 P.M.

"What the hell?" That couldn't be right. He shot up on the couch, looked over to the two women who were still asleep in the bed, and realized that the whole lot of them had overslept, unbelievably overslept.

Hank got up from the couch, went over to the table where he and Olivia had left their cell phones for the night, opened Olivia's up and turned it on. There was a message from one of the cops at SVU asking where she was. Taking it on his behalf to answer for her, he texted a quick message back:

Sorry, sick all night, be in tomorrow.

That was all anybody needed to know, and he figured it was time enough for them to figure out this fine mess Jackie was in. He went over to the bed and saw that sometime during the night, Jackie had wound up wrapped up in Olivia's arms. Lucky stiff. He pushed that thought to the side and let out a high shriek of a whistle to wake them up and get their attention. Both women sprang up in the bed and about hit the ceiling.

"Ladies," he said nonchalantly, "It is now going on 10 after 2 in the afternoon, anybody interested in getting lunch?"

Olivia checked her watch as if she didn't trust Voight, and she couldn't believe it either, "How did we sleep that long?"

"Not a bad question, but not one I'm too concerned with," Voight said, he looked to the young woman and said to her, "Before we head out to eat, I want some answers out of you. _What_ is going on?"


	7. Chapter 7

Jackie looked down and picked at the dirt under her nails and trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing she said to Voight, "Remember last night when you said to lie but make it sound good?"

"Yeah."

She looked up at him, "Well Roger's dad didn't try to rape me…" She looked down at her nails again.

"But somebody did?" Olivia asked, hoping to give her enough push to continue.

"Long time ago," Jackie answered, she kept her gaze down, "It's irrelevant really."

"Your father?" Olivia asked.

Jackie whipped her head around and glared at Olivia, "Where the hell did you get an idea like _that_?"

"Is she wrong?" Voight asked.

"Yes," Jackie turned towards him, "But…not by much…a friend of his…one night they were late coming home and he came over to see my dad, and when he found out we were alone…" She looked up at the almost unreadable expression on Voight's face, _almost_, but there _was_ a hint of murder in his eyes as he awaited the details. "I _knew_ it was wrong, so I threw the biggest tantrum you'd ever seen, scared him off, enough anyway that I could get away from him. He never tried again…and I never told anybody." She met his gaze and explained, "Anytime you as a kid try to tell your parents that somebody did something that you didn't like, _you're_ the one who gets in trouble even if you never do anything. I wasn't about to tell them about _that_."

"Jackie," Olivia sat down beside her and said, "You don't really think your parents would blame _you_ for it, do you?"

"Probably not," Jackie said, "But that's just one of those things that there's never a 'good' time to bring it up, and it's been too long to tell them now."

"How old?" Voight asked.

"I was 9," she answered, "If I were to tell them now, then there'd be all that outrage, and _hurt_ of _why_ I didn't _trust_ them enough to tell them before. It's a can of worms best left sealed shut."

"Okay, so," Olivia said, "What happened with Roger's dad?"

"Well," Jackie looked back to Voight and told him, "It wasn't _just_ because of what he did to Roger. One night I went over there to see Roger, but he wasn't in. I climbed up the ladder that hangs outside of his window and I went into his room, it was dark, he was gone, I heard his dad talking to someone, so I stuck around to listen."

"Who was he talking to?" Voight asked.

"Another man," Jackie said, "I couldn't get _too_ close but from what I heard, and what I _was_ able to see from the stairs…they're _both_ a couple sickos that get together and trade…pictures…videos…"

"Of who?" Olivia asked.

"Mainly women," Jackie said, "Mainly young women. See I…there was a headline in our paper about an open serial rape case you have out here in New York…and I put it together."

"What?" Voight asked her, "Put what together?"

"This second man who was at the house…" she looked to Olivia, "He's the one the papers are calling the baby rapist…he made videos of his previous attacks and they were watching them that night."

Olivia looked like a ton of bricks had just fallen on her. She looked to Voight, who was still trying to figure out what to make of this.

"He was getting ready to leave for New York, I was able to get a few vague clues about where he was going. I didn't _really_ plan it, but there was just this…force in me, driving me to do it, rationalizing but not thinking…so, that night that Grandpa left, I had Roger come over, and since Grandpa lives out of town from my parents, I had Roger return some books I got from the library back home for me, told him I was waiting for a call from my parents and couldn't leave the phone. He left, and I went over, and I tried to kill his dad."

"What happened?" Olivia asked.

"He was drunk, it was easy to get in, easy to catch him off guard," Jackie said, "I picked up the card table and swung it at him and hit him with it, and then I threw him to the floor, and I jumped on him and I stomped on his ribs, I wanted him dead. But too much time was passing, I had to get back home and be waiting for Roger to come back. So I left the house, and…"

"And what?" Olivia asked.

"And somebody grabbed me in the dark, and the next thing I know, I'm in this back alley getting my brains bashed in against a wooden fence. I wake up in the hospital with three doctors standing over me, and I panicked, and I attacked them."

"Do you have any idea who did it?" Voight asked.

"I don't remember a face, but I think it was _him_," Jackie said.

"The second man, do you know his name?" Olivia asked.

Jackie nodded, "Raymond Garson, that's his name. He's staying in Manhattan, I came out here to find him and I was going to kill him."

"Why didn't you tell _me_ what was going on?" Voight asked.

"You knew what Roger's dad was doing to his wife and son, and you never did anything about it," Jackie said, "Why would you do something with him now?"

"The plight of a cop, sometimes you have to know when you're not accomplishing anything," Voight told her, "People who don't want help won't be helped, and that includes Roger and his mother. But _this_ is different, you _should've_ told me."

"So we were both wrong," Jackie said, trying to be nonchalant, "So what's new?"

Voight looked at her curiously for a minute and finally asked her, "What were you going to do to this Garson when you found him?"

"I hadn't really planned that far ahead," she admitted, "I guess I just figured I'd use whatever I could get my hands on when the time came, like with Roger's dad. The table was handy, old, light weight, easy to swing."

"And you came 700 miles out here and put everybody through all this misery on what, a hunch?" Voight asked her.

Jackie started to look ashamed and her gaze traveled towards the floor, "I was just so angry, I wanted to track him down and brutally murder him. Make him suffer, make him feel something of what those women he raped and videoed went through before I finally killed him."

"How _did_ you get out here?" Olivia asked the girl.

She looked up to the woman detective and said, "First I took a bus, and I got on and off a couple different ones…but I'd taken all my money with me and I knew I had to watch it. So I hitched the rest of the way out."

"And how," Olivia asked her, "Did you get the bruises on your back?"

Voight looked at her suspiciously, "What bruises?"

"Jackie, do you mind?" Olivia grabbed the back of Jackie's shirt and pulled it up enough for him to get a glimpse of the lowest bruises.

Jackie tensed and flinched when she felt Olivia's hand brush against one of the bruises. "That's just part of the hitching experience. Some people you get a ride with are the worst drivers in the world, you can cheat death a lot of times trying to thumb your way across this great country. And then others…" she shrugged her shoulders and said, "They're all perverts, they're all after something, they get you in their car, hit the power locks, and think they got an easy catch. Well…not so easy, but you only have so much room in some cars to fight back and then throw yourself out the door when you manage to get it open."

"How many times did that happen?" Olivia asked as she rolled Jackie's shirt back down.

"More than a couple," was Jackie's only answer, "It doesn't matter, I'm out here now."

"Yeah and exactly _what_ is it you plan to do out here?" Voight asked.

"I've been trying to track down Garson," Jackie said, "I've been out all night trying to get a lead on him. So far I haven't had much luck."

"You should've told me," he told her.

She looked at the man and asked him, "_Would_ you have believed me?"

He looked at her for a minute and said, "I'd like to think I would, at the very least I would've investigated it."

"What about in the beginning?" Jackie asked, "Would you have believed me when I was 9?"

"You didn't have that great of an imagination, kid," Voight told her, "I would've beat the crap out of him so fast your head would've spun."

Jackie exhaled a sigh and folded her arms and said, "So I wasted all this time for nothing. If I could've told you back then…"

"You _could've_ told me," Voight told her.

"Fine," she said, "If I _would've_ told you back then…everything would be different."

There was an awkward silence in the room after that; Voight looked to Olivia, Olivia looked to Jackie, and Jackie just kept her gaze down towards the floor.

"What about Roger?" Olivia asked the girl, "You didn't tell him where you were going."

"I couldn't tell Roger about any of this," Jackie said and looked up at the both of them again, "It would've been bad enough him trying to stop him, it would've been worse if he'd tried coming out here with me."

"Why didn't you let him know what was going on?" Voight asked, "You had _everybody_ worried: Roger, your parents, your grandfather, _me_."

"How do I tell a guy the man he lives in mortal fear of already is palling around with a serial rapist who comes and goes all over the country?" Jackie asked, "Do you have any idea what that would do to his psyche? He's already scared to death of his father, he couldn't go up against him _or_ Garson, and if he knew this he'd feel an obligation to because he's a good guy."

"So you didn't tell anybody about this plan," Olivia said.

"Loose lips and all that," Jackie said, "If you want to get something done, keep it to your damn self, I learned that long ago."

"Okay, I can understand that," Voight told her, "But explain to me taking off in this weather without a jacket, do you have any idea how random this looked back home?"

"Voight, what jackets do I have?" Jackie asked.

Without taking a moment to think of it, Voight recalled, "One denim one with a leather collar, one black knockoff leather jacket."

"There, you see?" Jackie asked, "If this guy's been around the neighborhood, he'd see either of those and know it was me right away, a person's clothes give them away sooner than their own features many times. _Everybody_ knows them because everybody's seen me in both, and I didn't have time to pick up a new one on my way out of town. A smart move? No, but I was taking no chances on being identified before I caught up with this guy." Jackie stood up and rubbed her arms like she was cold and said, "If I'd only told you, I could still be at home, _not_ spending a week freezing half to death and starving half to death and staying up all night making sure I never missed a turnoff, never missed anything…I could be back at home with Roger, having a perfectly good time doing absolutely nothing, listening to my parents bitch about I never do anything with my life."

"And you were going to murder him," Olivia said.

Jackie turned to her and said, "This is New York, people are killed here all the time for any reason, for _no_ reason…what would one more killing have been here? All I had to do was make sure I had enough money to get out here and then back home when it was all over…after…"

"Hey, come here," Voight said, and before Jackie had time to even turn around, he was up on her and he put his arms around her and held her tightly against him, "For whatever reason, I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed help."

Jackie didn't struggle, she wasn't even trying.

"Voight?" her voice was different now, confused, disoriented, lost…

"It's alright," he told her, sounding very sure of himself, "Everything's going to be alright now."

"Voight," her voice was close to breaking, "I want to go home."

Voight looked to Olivia and nodded and told the girl, "That's good, you'll come back with me, this time we're gonna fly, save your money."

Once again he felt that sickening tremor against his stomach and heard that unearthly growling.

"Olivia, I'm sure you can recommend a decent place to eat in these parts," he said.

"Uh…sure," she responded.

"Voight," Jackie looked up at the man and asked him, "What about Garson?"

"Don't worry, I'm going to find him," he told her.

"How? You don't even know what he looks like," she said, "You won't know what to look for."

"It doesn't matter," Voight said, "If he's here, _anywhere_ here, I'm going to find him," he craned his neck down and pressed his forehead against hers and told her, "You know I have connections, I can find anybody, I could find anything, I could find Jimmy Hoffa if I wanted to. I'm going to get this guy."

Jackie slowly nodded, "Good."

"Then it's settled," he told her, he shifted his gaze up and across the room to Olivia and said, "Come on, let's get out of here and get something to eat."


	8. Chapter 8

"What're you going to order?" Olivia asked as they sat down at a table at a restaurant she'd recommended to Voight for a late lunch.

Hank skimmed over the menu and responded, "I'm getting the biggest steak they've got." He looked to Jackie and asked her, "How 'bout you?"

Jackie about collapsed on top of her menu and that side of the table and she answered, "The same. I'm so hungry, I could eat just about anything."

Voight looked at her and saw she was just about to pass out. "How long _has_ it been since you ate?"

"Who knows?" she asked tiredly, "Anymore, time just seems to blur together."

"Especially when you're living on crackers and water," Olivia noted.

"Yeah," Jackie picked her head up from the table, "Garson's the crook, but _I'm_ the prisoner, _there's_ irony for you."

Voight reached over and rubbed her back and told her, "It's going to be alright, kid."

A waiter came and took their order, and once he retreated back to the kitchen, Jackie said to Voight, "You'll never find him."

"Of course I will," Hank told her, "Because you're going to describe him for me, so I'll know him when I see him."

"Voight, there are 3 million people in this city," Jackie said, "You're _never_ going to find him."

"Know how you find a needle in a haystack?" Voight asked her, and when she just shrugged in return he answered, "Burn down the haystack."

"Not that I doubt you'd do it," Jackie said, "But you can't burn down the city, Voight."

"Jackie, what _does_ this Garson look like?" Olivia asked.

"I'm not too great on specifics but I'd say he's about 6 feet tall, slightly larger than average build, short light hair, not a great complexion, it's not enough to go on, I'd have to point him straight out to you for you to find him."

"Let me worry about that," Voight told her.

But it seemed obvious from watching Jackie as she clawed at the table with her nails, that she was doing plenty of worrying of her own.

"Jackie, you're not in any trouble," Hank said.

"Not _yet_," she replied.

"You're not going to be in trouble when you go home," he told her.

"Until I have to explain _why_ I ran away," Jackie said, "And what do I tell any of them? How do I justify running away to New York? What do I tell them, that I ran away here to get a job writing for TV?" she shook her head, "That school of thought for young idealistic morons died out a long time ago."

"You let me worry about that," Voight said, "I'll figure some cover story for your parents, they'd be the worst to deal with. Your grandpa on the other hand is likely to be more understanding to the real reason."

"That still leaves Roger," Jackie reminded him.

Olivia tilted her head to the side to get a better look at the girl and asked her, "Exactly what is your relationship with him?"

"Relationship?" Jackie repeated, and snorted, "Hey, _big_ word. We don't have one."

"You're both of age, there's nothing wrong with it," Olivia told her.

Jackie looked at Olivia snidely and replied, "I don't know about you, but I've got better things to do than let myself be led around all my life by my hormones like some dog in heat."

At those words, Voight's hand came within a fraction of an inch of Jackie's face and he sternly warned her, "Show some respect, Jackie."

"Sorry," she replied, not really sounding the part, "But it's true, I have no time, and no use for a boyfriend, never have. The only use I have for men is a platonic one, and I do just fine with it. What point really otherwise?"

"What do you mean?" Olivia asked.

The waiter came back with their food and one by one they collected their plates and went about getting their food ready as they continued their conversation.

"It's very simple really," Jackie told Olivia as she cut open her potatoes, turned them over and smashed the potato off the skins with her fork, "You should know better than anybody. Every day in this world what do you see? Husbands and wives killing each other, boyfriends beating up their girlfriends, girlfriends running around on their boyfriends, boyfriends raping their girlfriends, husbands raping their wives, every single day people who are supposed to be so in love with each other don't have a use for one another unless it's to each use the other as a punching bag or a piece of property or an insurance policy to collect on. All of them started because two people fell in love, or one fell in love with the other and didn't know it was one sided, but all of them happened because two people made the choice to be together, _in_ a relationship, they all walk into the quicksand with eyes wide open…and if you _don't_ get into all of that, _then_ you get into the others that get together, and have kids, and stay together, and are miserable, because they threw their lives away on someone else before they had a chance to live for themselves. Now maybe you could explain why in the hell I would even want to _start_ that mess."

"It's not always like that you know," Voight told her.

"It's Russian roulette is what it is," Jackie said, "_Maybe_ you pick somebody who tries to kill you, maybe you don't, why bother in the first place?"

"Far be it for me to point out," Hank said to her, "It's a damn good thing you don't speak for the vast majority otherwise the whole human race would've died out long ago."

"Would that really have been such a loss?" Jackie asked, "Consider what comes out of the species still being alive every single day, pick up any newspaper, turn on any news station, turn to any 'ripped from the headlines' TV show and all you find is the scourge of all humanity on an ever regular basis. How can anybody possibly say the pros outweigh the cons?"

"I know a guy here in New York," Olivia said to Jackie, "I've _got_ to introduce you to him, you two would get along perfectly, a pair of perfectly hardened cynics, the only difference is he already has four ex-wives and about 40 years under his belt to justify some of it."

"Who's that?" Voight asked.

"He used to be our previous sergeant," Olivia answered, "John Munch." A small sad smile found its way to her face and she shook her head, "He finally retired a while back…every day I keep thinking of new reasons to miss him."

"So why don't _you_ marry him? Jackie asked snidely.

A laugh escaped Olivia and all she could think to say in response was, "Somehow I _don't_ think that would be a good idea."

"I don't think it would either," Voight added, flashing a small mischievous smile towards Olivia.

Jackie cut a piece off of her steak and bit down on it, and a few seconds later started choking on it. The noise got both officers' attention and they pushed back their chairs and were over at Jackie's side of the table to help her. Jackie refused their attempts and instead tilted her head down, stuck her thumb and forefinger into her mouth far towards the back and pulled out the piece of meat with a stringy piece of fat hanging off of it, that likely was what made it catch in her throat.

"Are you okay?" Olivia asked.

Jackie reached over and grabbed Voight and said in a low gritted tone, "He's here."

"Who, Garson?"

"Where?" Olivia looked around.

"He just walked in," Jackie told them, "Towards the door, black T-shirt, blue jeans."

They looked, and they saw the man she was referring to. He looked about 40, tall, a strong build but not a massive one, true to form for any monster, looked just like any regular person. If they hadn't known what they were looking for, neither would probably have ever guessed.

"Are you sure?" Olivia asked.

"Do _you_ ever forget the face of a rapist?" Jackie asked her, "It's _him_."

"Wait here," Voight told the women, and moved to leave the table.

"Voight, what're you going to do?" Olivia asked.

"Don't worry," he told her, and made his way past the other people in the restaurant.

"What's he doing?" Jackie asked Olivia.

Olivia just shook her head, "I don't know."

Voight made his way towards the door and stepped out just as two other people stepped in. He reentered a few seconds later and came in and looked around like he was lost, and slowly made his way over towards Garson.

"Excuse me," he said to the man who had just been seated at a table, "You wouldn't happen to own that red pickup out there, would you?"

"No," the man replied, "Why?"

"Well whoever _does_ own it dented my bumper," Voight told him.

Garson shook his head, "Nope, mine's the white Lexus out there."

"I see," Voight replied, "Sorry to bother you."

Voight turned around and got lost in the late lunch crowd and headed back towards the door, made like he saw somebody outside and pushed the door open, saying, "Hey you, I want to talk to you," and disappeared for another minute. When he came back in again, he returned to his table, and before he could sit down, Olivia demanded to know, "Voight, what did you do?"

"I got his license number," Voight answered, "We're going to watch that car, and when he leaves we're going to follow him and see where he goes."

"Why?" Jackie asked.

"He's hoping we can catch him in the act tonight," Olivia said, "If we can bust him red handed we've got a solid case."

Jackie looked from her, to Voight, and back again and said, "Everything I told you doesn't count for anything, does it?"

"If the D.A.'s going to win against the defense lawyers we've got around here," Olivia explained, "You can't afford to play fast and loose, you need a case as concrete as is possible."

"Suppose he doesn't go after anybody tonight, then what?" Jackie asked.

"Then we might have to force his hand slightly," Voight replied.

"And how're you going to do that?" Jackie asked.

Voight looked towards Olivia and said by way of explanation, "With the best damn decoy there is in all of New York."

His response caught Olivia completely off guard and she was at a total loss for words.


	9. Chapter 9

"What's taking so long?" Jackie asked as she, Olivia, and Voight sat out in his car watching Garson's car in the parking lot, waiting for him to come out of the restaurant.

"Could he be meeting someone?" Olivia asked.

"This is your perp," Voight said as he watched the door, "Any indications he works with a partner or is that just to sit back and reminisce?"

"We never found anything to suggest he worked with a second person," Olivia told him.

"He might be looking for a new victim," Jackie suggested, "Watch and see which women are dining alone, see where they go, see if they're alone."

"Good point," Voight said, "However he works, he'd need time to _know_ they were alone and weren't expecting anyone."

"Voight," Jackie said, "What're we going to do?"

Voight turned in his seat and looked at her questioningly, "_We_?"

"Voight," Olivia hit him on the shoulder to get his attention, "Here he comes."

Voight turned to face front again and they saw Garson leaving the restaurant and getting into his car. It didn't seem as though he were following anyone, so Voight started the car and they pulled out behind him but kept enough distance that they wouldn't be inconspicuous.

"Where do you think he's going?" Olivia asked.

"Don't know," Voight replied, "He doesn't seem to be lost though, must have a specific place in mind."

A couple cars cut in front of Voight's car but he kept his eye on the white car at the head of the line and made sure it was never out of his sight. After about ten minutes, the Lexus pulled into the parking lot of a small store.

"What's doing here?" Olivia asked as she undid her seatbelt.

"One way to find out," Voight said, "Everybody pile out but don't look suspicious."

"Voight, it's New York," Jackie reminded him as she reached for her door, "People here don't notice _anything_ strange."

"Two weeks in the Big Apple and already you're an expert on the place, eh?" he asked.

They cut across the parking lot and went in the store and made as though they were looking around for something down the aisles, and caught sight of Garson in the health and hygiene section.

"He's stocking up," Olivia told Voight, "He's getting ready for the next rape."

"Baby powder, baby oil, petroleum jelly," Voight said, "Unless he's got a kid, you'd think the cashiers would wonder."

"Maybe not," Olivia replied.

"Well so far as I know," Voight told her, "Kids aside, those are still primarily used by women for beauty reasons, so why would this guy…"

"Maybe he has a girlfriend," Olivia suggested.

"A girlfriend and he's doing this?" Voight asked.

"It's not uncommon, Voight."

Voight made a small snorting sound of sarcasm and said, "The things you learn in Sex Crimes, eh?"

"You have _no_ idea," Olivia said.

"Unfortunately I have _some_," he remarked, "I deal with more than just homicides, you know." He turned to the teen girl and asked, "How 'bout it, Jackie? You know anything about this that could help us?"

"If he _has_ a girlfriend, I never knew anything about it," she said, "Otherwise I'd beat her to death too just for being so _stupid_."

"Alright, let's get out of here before he sees us," Voight told them, "Ladies first."

Olivia and Jackie hightailed it out of the store without drawing too much attention to themselves, and got back to the car, and waited, but Voight didn't come right away.

"What do you think he's doing?" Olivia asked.

"I know Voight, I can take a few guesses," Jackie answered from the backseat, "But I'd _never_ think he'd do them with witnesses around."

Olivia turned in her seat to look back at the girl and said, "You know Voight pretty well, don't you?"

"I like to think so," Jackie answered, "So it kills me that I was never able to tell him about what happened. Always seemed so easy, like a carrot dangling in front of a rabbit, all you'd have to do is make one quick jump, and you've got it. But it felt a lot harder than that…like you reach for the carrot, the floor falls out from under you, and then you're in the 7th circle of hell, because it seemed so easy it just _had_ to be too good to be true."

Olivia gave a small, sad smile and tried to sound reassuring, "It's going to be alright, Jackie."

A minute later they saw Voight exiting the store and he had a bag with him. When he got into the car, he passed it over to Jackie in the back and just told her, "Here."

"What is it?" Olivia asked, already seeing Jackie pull out a bag of potato chips, a six-pack of soda, a bag of powdered donuts, and a large tuna salad kit.

"A few things to eat," Voight nodded his head towards Jackie and explained to Olivia, "I know this girl, usually she can eat like the whole Chicago Bears."

Jackie reached over the seat and lightly smacked Voight in the back of the head for that remark, he remained nonchalant and acted like he hadn't noticed.

"Did he see you?" Olivia asked.

"Nah, I know how to get in and out undetected," he answered.

"Find out anything?" Jackie asked.

"No," Voight said, "But when he comes out we're going to find out _where_ it is he goes."

* * *

><p>Where he went, they found out, was to <em>another<em> motel, where he had a room on the second floor.

"Either he lives here or this just makes it more convenient for him to attack," Voight said.

He checked with the front office and found that there were four open vacancies, he got a room, and the three of them took one on the ground floor so they could watch for anyone coming downstairs.

"Still think we'll need to force his hand?" Jackie asked.

"Doubt it," Voight answered, "He's already got the stuff he needs, he must have somebody in mind." He turned to Olivia and said to her, "Walk me through this, Former Sergeant Benson, what're we looking at? What're we waiting for? How _long_ can we expect to wait?"

Olivia just shrugged and told him, "All his victims were attacked at night, no specific time but well after sundown."

"So we've got at least…5 hours before he does anything," Voight checked his watch, "So I guess until then we just…relax."

Olivia huffed as she sat down and said, "I never relax with a rapist in the vicinity that I'm trying to catch."

"Take a lesson from this one," Voight pointed over to Jackie, who had collapsed on one of the beds and had her arms sprawled out at the sides and already looked dead to the world, "This one could relax in a tornado."

"If that ain't the big deadpan pot calling the kettle black," Jackie said, without opening her eyes.

That unexpected commented got a laugh out of Olivia, and she asked Voight, "Hank, are you _sure_ that the two of you aren't related?"

"Ho," Voight choked on a laugh and told her, "If you'd ever seen her mother, you'd know definitely _not_."

Olivia reached into her pocket and said, "I bet half the department's wondering where I am, I never told anybody I wouldn't be coming in today."

"Not really," Voight told her, and explained, "I took the liberty of answering for you."

She looked at him questioningly and asked, "What'd you say?"

"That you were sick and wouldn't be in until tomorrow," Voight answered, "I figure by then, either we'll have this guy, or it'll be time enough to come up with another excuse."

"You went through my _phone_, Voight?" Olivia asked.

"I told you," he said, "We're not bringing anyone else in on this case. I had to make sure they didn't come searching your apartment and find you weren't there."

"This _is_ our case," Olivia said, "This is _our_ rapist…"

"Yeah, but until you actually catch him in the act or a close prelude to it," Hank shook his head, "You won't have anything on him, and you can't bring your whole department in on a hunch."

"And exactly _how_ do I explain to Murphy how I came to be in the middle of this without his knowing, or anyone else's?" Olivia asked.

"Don't worry, I'll smooth that over later," Voight told her.

Jackie sat up on the bed and said to Olivia, "You ought to know by now, that's one of his strong suits, he waits and drops a bomb _on_ that bridge when he comes to it."

Olivia looked at Hank and told him, "I gotta tell you, Voight, I don't like this."

"Nobody said you had to," he reminded her, "Look, you were off duty when I picked you up, you agreed to help me on an unofficial case, as a favor to me, which is a favor to an old friend back in Chicago. It's only through this that we found out the connecting factor of your rapist."

"And the minute I did, I was supposed to bring the others in on it," Olivia said, "Even if it would turn out to be a dead end, if I don't secure this with them, IAB is going to come after me."

"Boy that seems to be their favorite thing, doesn't it?" Voight asked, "They come after your partner, they come after you, this may be their _job_, but don't any of these idiots have a _life_? Don't they have anything _real_ to do?"

"Voight…"

"Look," Voight closed the distance between them and grabbed Olivia by the shoulders so she paid attention to him, and he told her, "I tell my guys, tell _me_ the truth so _I_ can lie for _you_. I already know what the truth in this case is, so just trust me, Olivia."

"Voight…I _want_ to, but eventually, you're going to go back to Chicago, and then the brass _is_ going to turn their attention to _me_."

Voight made her keep eye contact with him and he looked at her and said firmly, but simply, "Trust me, Olivia."

"Voight," she said to him, "I _can't_ do what Elliot did, I _can't_ turn in my badge because of _one_ case, I can't keep taking the brass ridiculing every decision I make."

Hank rubbed her shoulder and assured her, "It's alright, everything's going to be okay, we're going to get this guy."

"That's not the part I doubt," she told him.

"Olivia," Voight said into her ear, "We don't even have to bring this guy in _alive_." Olivia pulled back and looked at him in an almost horrified expression. He told her, "If you're worried about this guy getting out, or playing the victim card at trial like that Lewis character…"

"That's not what this is about," Olivia said.

"I know that," Hank replied, "But I also know what you got put through on account of him."

Olivia looked close to defeat, "And if you hadn't gone to the press first, IAB would've eaten me alive for his accusations of police brutality."

"So tonight when we bust him, you just stand there and look pretty and read him his rights, and _I'll_ proceed to put him in a coma," Voight told her, "See, everybody has their own job to do."

"Voight," Olivia shook her head, "Don't."

"Don't what?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"Don't even think about it, Voight…don't try and make me laugh."

"Not working, huh?" he asked.

"No," she shook her head.

"Oh well," Hank seemed to admit defeat and looked away for a split second before digging his fingers under Olivia's armpits and tickling her. Olivia screamed at the top of her lungs laughing and tried to get away from him.

"Ah! Voight! Stop that!" She finally managed to move back and proceeded to hit his hands with her fists to make him stop.

"Well," he said nonchalantly, "Made you laugh."

Olivia laughed and slapped him on the arm and told him, "You are impossible."

He seemed to take pride in that and remarked with a small grin, "Thank you, my wife used to think the same thing."

Olivia shook her head and tried to be serious about it but she just started laughing again.

"It's gonna be alright, Olivia," Voight told her again, "Just trust me, I know my way around the brass."

"Them, maybe, but what about my boss?" she asked.

"What, Murphy?" Hank shook his head, "No sweat, I'll take them all on, I don't care."

Olivia was still having trouble to stop laughing, but she said, "Well, at least you've got the right attitude for the job."

"Now you're talking," Voight smiled, then looked towards the ceiling, and asked, "So exactly what're we going to do for the next 5 hours waiting for this guy to make his move?"


End file.
